Making Adjustments

I love to make people happy. Like many, I am preparing for  Christmas – trying to decorate, shop for gifts and bake my usual Christmas cookies for every single person I know.  The kicker this year is that I am also preparing for my daughter’s wedding at the end of December.  I am making her veil, my dress, preparing takeaways, printing programs, AND baking the wedding cake!

This sounds like craziness when I put in on paper, but it is working pretty well.  I just have to make a few adjustments.

These adjustments are not so much of my routine, but adjustments to my thinking. Having a lot of responsibilities can cause me to scold myself if I don’t get something done by a certain time, or feel guilty if I spend a day goofing off instead of working.  But I have decided that I will not reprimand myself for anything that I don’t do to perfection or that I fail to do.

I am doing my best and I am confident that is enough to get me to the vision of the wedding and the holiday I have in my mind.  That thought did not come easily, though.  I have second guessed myself several times.  I have wondered why I took on so much and have found myself being anxious about some of the tasks. But I don’t let these thoughts morph into thoughts of giving up or just doing enough to get by.

Some people tell me that it must be so stressful, or that I am doing way too much, or that I am crazy for trying to be superwoman. But I don’t take in what they say.  Making adjustments to get through this time has to come from inside me, from my own values and vision for the future.  What I can accomplish is only limited by what is inside my head. Therefore, I cannot let other’s fears and anxieties cloud my vision.

I have learned to ask for help and graciously accept when it is offered. One friend helps me more than I can say and a few others give encouragement.  I accept the encouragement, but I don’t rely on it.  If I perform just to get reinforcement from others, I will find myself at the mercy of their opinions.

This does not mean that I don’t care about others.  I do want my daughter to have the best wedding ever, I want to look good in my new dress, I want my family and friends to be happy at Christmas.  But at the end of it all, if I have done my very best to make these things happen and it doesn’t turn out as I expected or others are still not happy, that’s not a failure on my part.  However it turns out, God has my back and I still choose to be happy.

No matter what anyone else says, or what is happening around you, you are in charge of your own thoughts.  You can choose to succumb to the negative anxious thoughts which bombard all of us, or you can rise up and think positively about your life and your situation.  Making that adjustment can turn your frustrations to blessings.

I will probably not write any more articles until the new year.  Hope you all have a blessed Christmas and a safe and happy New Year!


You can eat whatever you want, guilt free, over the holidays -not because you are going to diet for New Years, but because you are allowed to eat guilt free anytime for the rest of your life.








Re-think ‘Fake It Till You Make It’

“Fake it till you make it.”  I’ve heard this saying a million times.  And for most of my life I tried to fake it, waiting for that happy day when I could get up in the morning and say, “I made it!”  And even though I am in a much better frame of mind now than I was for most of my life, I don’t think that the ‘fake it till you make it’ attitude helped me at all.

I’m not saying its bad advice. It may be good advice for a rational mind.  A confident person knows it means you don’t have to let your emotions rule you, that whatever your circumstances are, everything will be okay eventually, and you can smile when you don’t feel like it because it will help make you feel better.

But to my broken, irrational, emotional mind, ‘fake it till you make it’ meant I must pretend I am okay so no one else sees the crazy inside me.  So, I pretended every day.  I put on a smile when I felt like a vacuum inside.  I kept hoping to get to a place where I felt real; authentic.  The trouble is, it is hard to be authentic when you are faking it.

I put all my energies into thinking about the size of my body because I thought that being authentic meant being thin. But as my body size changed over the years, whether big or small, I still had that same feeling that I couldn’t be the real me.  No one would want to know the real me because the real me was not a good person.

Then one day I realized that nothing was going to be different if I kept faking it.  I had to change, but wasn’t sure how to begin.  It was about this time I began attending a small church in our neighborhood.  And I’m not saying you must go to church to learn how to be authentic, but for me the timing was right.  I heard something there that resonated with me and started a transformation in my thinking.

The pastor called all the little children to come around him and sit. Then he asked them this question. “What do you have to do to earn Gods love?” All the kids raised their hands and gave answers like, -be good, -obey your parents, or-don’t hit your little brother. The pastor encouraged them and told them all these things were very good, but he was looking for another answer. One little boy in the back of the group didn’t raise his hand, but the pastor called on him anyway. “Jimmy, what do you think?” Jimmy looked at all the other kids like he was trying to think of an answer that wasn’t already mentioned. Finally, he scrunched up his face and asked, “Nothing?”  The pastor bellowed, “Yes, Jimmy, that’s exactly right. You don’t have to do anything to earn God’s love, you have it now, you had it when you were born, you will have it for the rest of your life.”

I always heard that God loved me, but I believed I had to work very hard to earn that love; to be good enough.  The trouble was, I missed the mark somehow.  I just never was good enough for some reason. I held myself responsible for how others thought about me and extended that to God.

When I finally realized that I was valuable just the way I was, there was relief.  It wasn’t like a big rush of liberation, it was more like a pinprick that eased a little pressure.  And each day, a little more tension was released until I truly believed in my goodness.  And with a true belief in my value, I didn’t have to fake it anymore.

Sometimes, now, I smile when I am sad, but not to fake it or hide my sorrow from others. I smile because I know it will help ease my pain and may even help someone else.  And now, I do most things because I want to; not because I force myself to.

Knowing my value allows me to function at a higher level.  It allows my body and mind to be more in sync.  I can acknowledge my feelings instead of hiding them or being ashamed of them, and I know my value is the same, regardless of my emotions, body size, or actions.

I used to think that people who thought they were valuable were arrogant.  But arrogance comes from thinking we have achieved our value only because of our outstanding merits. The truth is, there is nothing we can do, or fail to do, that will affect our value.

We can call this inherent value God’s love or call it our place in the universe.  But the knowledge and acceptance of it takes the need to ‘fake it’ away, and helps us be authentic.

Peace Ya’ll

You don’t have to fake anything.  You are already valuable.


There’s More Than Just Accepting The Past

Someone once wrote me that she was sorry I shared her “sorted history” of dieting and body image issues. It reminded me of someone saying ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ at a funeral. But this got me thinking, am I sorry for my past? Was my past a loss? How much of my past still haunts me?

I used to regret my past because I thought I was broken in some way. My past was proof I was a bad person or that I ended up where I am because of my failures or the failures of others. But I don’t think that way anymore.

Growing up, I had a sense that something was not right, like I didn’t fit in. I was adopted at 10 days old, and raised as an only child. My adoptive parents were both alcoholics, with my dad being in and out of rehab most of my early childhood and my mom drinking to cope. My dad was happy-go-lucky and let my verbally abusive mom dominate. We were in a low to middle socioeconomic class and my parents were old enough to be my grandparents. They sent me to a Catholic grade school where the nuns were cold and unforgiving.

I had this litany of complaints about my childhood, regretting everything that happened to me and mulling it over and over and asking God, “Why me?” I felt victimized by my parents, the nuns, and my birth mother. I had the story down pat and would tell anyone who would listen how I wished things could have been different, if only I wasn’t adopted, if only my mom treated me better, if only…..

One day I was talking to my parish priest at a social gathering, and I began to tell him (not for the first time) how I wished my life as a child had been different. Right in the middle of my speech he excused himself and walked away. I was stunned. But it occurred to me that talking about what I wish the past would have been didn’t make any sense, and no one really wanted to hear it. The past was part of who I was, but it didn’t have anything to do with what was happening at this point in my life. I was the one keeping it alive.

I now see my past as being necessary to get me to where I am today. After all, if things had been different in any way, would I have the children I have now? Would I have met my husband? Would I be any happier? Would my life be any better? There is no way to know.

When we regret the past, we automatically think that if it had been different then, things would be better now. This gives us an excuse to not make things better now. The truth is, even if we had an idyllic past, there is no way of knowing that any aspect of our lives would be better than it is now. This is an assumption we make; a guess. But there is no proof. And if there is no proof that anything would be better, it’s not logical to waste time lamenting the past. This just keeps us stalled in an unhappy ‘now.’

How did I come to terms with my past?

I began with changing my perspective. I took myself out of the equation and observed it as an outsider. I pretended that my past had a physical dimension, like a kitchen table. I had only been looking at it from one angle.  I felt like a plate sitting on the top of the table. I could only see what was happening around me.  And back then, I did what plates do; I took everything that was laid on me and didn’t ask any questions.

I realized that if I was looking into the past, I didn’t have to be the plate any more. I could just be me, as I am now, and look at everything.  I crawled up under the table and looked at the underside. I inspected the legs that held it up and examined the entire structure. I made new conclusions about its existence.  I no longer felt like the plate or the victim or at fault.

After that, I began to remember things a little better. It’s not that my memories were faulty, it’s that they were not complete. I remember all the bad things because it’s easy to do that. It’s a survival mechanism.  We easily recall the bad stuff so we can stay away from it in the future. The problem is, when we do this, we forget the okay stuff, and even the good stuff.  But, if we think hard enough, we can find those good times that were overlooked.

So, here’s the new version of my past. It’s the same as before, only from a new perspective.

My biological mom was only 18 years old, with no education or money, when she got pregnant with me. No surprise that I was put up for adoption. My adoptive parents were madly in love with each other and tried many years, but could not conceive a child of their own. I was the answer to their prayers. My dad drank a lot, but he worked hard to put a roof over our head. I was a typical ‘daddy’s little girl’ and loved him lots. My mom and I weren’t as close, but she was a great cook and housekeeper. She worked part time cleaning other people’s houses to give me piano lessons and send me to a private Catholic school. A few nuns were mean to me, but most of them and the other teachers were supportive and taught me well. When I was little, my mom and dad took me camping and fishing at the shore most weekends. My adoptive parents tried hard to make a good life for me.

This change in thinking about my past did not come about in a day, a month, or even a year. I have spent my life trying to reconcile it. But I now realize that by just trying to accept my past, I limited myself. I must embrace my past to be happy about who I am now. I must be content that things happened just the way they did, or I will always harbor a shadow of regret.

I have no regrets now.

For info on how to create a binge-free life – click here


“My past has no hold over me unless I let it.”

IMG_6935 (2)